


Two's Company

by orphan_account



Series: When The Day Met The Night [2]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Attraction, F/M, Fluff, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 19:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the two of them are alone, the way they are now, Maka can feel a calmness coming from Crona’s soul wavelength.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two's Company

**04\. Two's Company**

 

_\- September 12_ _th_ _, 2009 -_

 

A few days after Crona's trial run finds Maka still showing him around the Shibusen campus, conducting personal tours of her own. While the first tour or two had been very structured, and also supervised by Marie, the next few include Maka taking Crona to her favorite small corners, secret rooms, and hideouts; the peaceful little nooks and crannies where no one can find her when she wants to get lost in a book by herself, the home-y and familiar places her dad led her to when she used to wander around school with him as a child.

Crona is becoming less and less nervous each time he leaves his room to meet with her, Maka notices; though, not by very much. He's still jumpy and he still has a hard time speaking to most others without stuttering—and Maka doesn't think she's seen him smile yet, or at leastgenuinely-but it helps put him at ease when she walks around with him on campus after-hours, when crowds of other students aren't around. A lot of them have been staring at Crona like he's an alien in the hallways since he's arrived; and Maka supposes he is in some respects (what with Ragnarok dangling from his back at times), but they could at least try to hide their open mouths and whispers when he passes, it'd certainly irritate her less. Crona hasn't said anything about it yet, but she can already tell he's very sensitive to others' reactions to him; that he winces and curls in on himself whenever he notices even so much as odd glance pointed in his direction, even from the people who are friendly to him like Soul and Black Star and Maka's other friends.

Today, it's late afternoon and Maka is giving Crona a more in-depth look at the gigantic library, which they'd only stopped by briefly thusfar. And when the two of them are alone, or at least nearly alone, the way they are now, Maka can feel a calmness coming from Crona's soul wavelength.

It's a nice feeling being next to him, she thinks; she looks over at him as he stares up at the high-reaching ceiling in awe, at the cases upon cases of books that surround them like a safehaven. What she likes most about being able to perceive other's souls is that the especially kind and compassionate souls—like Tsubaki's, like Marie's—tend to give her a pleasant and peaceful feeling in her chest just by being close to them. Crona's is like that, too; for all that his wavelength had felt so jarring and disturbing those times she'd fought against him, Crona's real soul wavelength is surprisingly soothing, now that Ragnarok's madness and Medusa's cruelty are no longer encrusting it.

Crona the person is surprising as a whole, she finds. In contrast to the brittleness and uncertainty he often resonates, the nervousness that is clearly tangible to most others who interact with, Maka has personally seen within the last few days that Crona is naturally gentle, and good, and considerate, underneath the nervous layers. He's polite and thoughtful; always asking if he can do such and such, always letting others step before him or lead the way, always asking if Maka would prefer something first. His voice is soft too, and the innocence of his big, round, almost vacant eyes makes Maka think that the real Crona wouldn't deign to pick the wings off a fly.

And when he's just with her, just with Maka, there is no tremoring or agitation coming from his wavelength the way there is when he's around others. He doesn't stutter as much, his posture visibly relaxes, sometimes he blushes, almost-smiles. Maka has noticed the subtle differences that come just with her presence, an unfair advantage to having soul perception maybe, but it's made her even more comfortable around him and even more eager to help, more curious about this new person who she accidentally discovered.

And so it feels natural to walk with him down the main hall of the library, side by side, this afternoon.

"The references and encyclopedias are all on the left side, stacks A through G," Maka is explaining. "Those are all the books you'll mostly need for school. The desk over there is how you can reach other floors, and as one star students we're technically not supposed to borrow books from anywhere but here, but…"

Crona glances over at her. "But?"

Maka looks over her shoulder, then reaches into the pocket of her blazer and shows him her dad's ID card.

"I have ways of getting around it," she says, smiling. It's a shitty thing for her to do, stealing his belongings and also using his status to get ahead—("You really do like being his daughter!" she can hear Soul taunting her)—but her dad owes her anyway for how creepy and weird he is, though now's not the time to kill her nice afternoon with Crona with thoughts about Spirit…

"My favorite book is in this section." Maka leads Crona to the M through N stacks, staring up admiringly at all the familiar titles as Crona runs his fingertips over the worn bindings, the gold trimming, like they're all a new world. "It's called Dark Side of the Moon, it's the first part of a trilogy and actually, it's right—"

When Maka's fingers slowly brush against his Crona realizes he's been running his hand over just the book.

"Here," Maka says.

Crona flushes; Maka's hands are so soft and warm, and every time she touches him even just a little, it's intoxicating. He slides his fingers out from under hers at about the same time Maka pulls the book out and then places it in his open palms.

"Why don't you read it?" Maka says with a grin. "I'm sure you'd like it."

Their hands are touching beneath the book. While Crona feels somewhat dizzy from the contact with a girl, (he still doesn't know how to sort out these overwhelming feelings he sometimes feels around girls), Maka feels his soul wavelength get warmer for a moment, a heat she can feel slightly resonating around her own soul (and that feeling is a little wonderful, she thinks.)

"Um," Crona says, breaking their eye contact to look at the book. "I-I'm not sure if I'm allowed to check things out like this, since I'm not really...since I…"

"Don't worry, I can let you borrow anything you want." Maka's hands leave his and turns back to the bookshelf for a moment, thumbing through titles. "What kinds of things do you like to read?"

Images from the pages of violent books flash through Crona's mind—crisp, black ink streaks of gore and mutilation—instructions on how to sever a spine, rip out a throat, dismember limbs—

He shakes the images away.

"M-my mother had a library in her h-house…" Crona's voice betrays him only a little. He clears his throat, staring down at the floor so that Maka can't look at him in all his disgrace with those welcoming eyes—I don't deserve to be here with her—I'm a bad person— "I-if I was good, I was allowed to read some of her nice stories sometimes. I liked um, Frankenstein, and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."

 _Well those aren't very nice stories,_ Maka thinks sympathetically.

Maka goes down the hall a bit, searching for two books she knows are in this section somewhere—aha. Their spines are thick, the covers are worn and brown and fringed, but they're two of her favorite classics written by women, of course; she carries them over to him.

"Maybe you'll like these," she says cheerfully, handing both the books off to him; Crona fumbles to balances them on the one already in his hands. "Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre, they're sorta in the same genre as Frankenstein but not really, and they don't have very happy endings but I still think they're worth the read."

Crona nods, one corner of his mouth twitching, face visibly relaxing once more.

"T-thank you."

After showing him a few more of her favorite reading selections, Maka leads him to a more secluded corner of the library, against the back wall, behind the Y through Z stacks. She shows him up a ladder that leads to a small, dim balcony on the second floor, and a small, unlatched wooden door; inside is a wood-paneled, low-ceilinged room full of empty boxes, shelves, covered furniture, and plenty of dust.

"They used to use this for storage, but ever since they built new backrooms downstairs this one's mostly empty," Maka explains, softly closing the door behind them. "None of the library workers will notice you go up here as long as you stay quiet."

Along one of the walls, in front of the sole, floor-to-ceiling window in the back corner, Maka has placed a little set up of books that are stacked up high enough to create a sort of alcove; the space inside the book-stack-cave is adorned by stolen library furniture from downstairs: two fancy tablecloths spread across the floor like blankets, a few candlesticks from the walls, some floral and cacti table centerpieces; a cozy, clandestine spot that looks very decidedly Maka.

Crona likes it. He watches as Maka goes to it, as she sits down in her little cove and kicks off her shoes, picks up one of the most peculiar looking plant pieces—it looks like it has a gnarled mouth growing from it, with dozens of sharp little teeth—and shows its face to him. She smiles and looks so comfortable and at home, and he really does like the warm, silver-hazel color of her hair, he randomly notices now, and her hair does look so silky to the touch…all of these things he notices about her makes him feel another dizzy-spell in his head…

"S-so no one bothers you up here?" Crona asks, self-consciously (sub-consciously) folding a hand across his thin body.

"Nope!" Maka puts the plant back down, drawing her knees to her chest, settling her back against a stack of books, wiggling her toes. "It's been niceand quiet up here for months."

Crona sets down his books on the floor and crawls onto the tablecloth-blanket, moving to sit and lean up against the stack of books opposite from Maka; their feet nearly touch. but not quite, and Crona sits comfortably and politely with his knees closed, and is situated in front of most of the window, where the light flowing in from outside lets him see the dust particles that float and flutter around the room, like microscopic little birds.

Crona takes a deep breath, and notices that Maka is flipping through a book at her side absently, so he turns to looks out the window. He still hasn't gotten past the novelty of the blue, day sky and the sunlight out there, of being able to view them whenever he wants to…he hadn't been able to do that before.

There are a lot of things happening now that he wasn't able to do before.

Like sit across from a real girl. Maka, who was not a witch and was happy and bright like the sun, without the fear that he was going have to hurt her someday. The fact that the girl across from him is his friend now, and is nice to him and has spent all this time just to show him around this new place he's going to live.

And thinking about all that, he smiles to himself, and Maka notices. It's a genuine smile, closed-lipped but pulling at the corners of his pink lips and faintly reaching his eyes, and it suits Crona so much and she wonders how someone who's been through so much hardship could be so gentle and so cute. As he smiles, she feels his soul wavelength spread out and wrap itself around her own in a warm embrace, and normally she'd recognize the feeling as a crush…

"Hey," Maka says, and now that his eyes are on her she's not sure why she interrupted, or what she wanted to say, (or what it is about Crona's eyes that draws her in so).

Rather, she can feel her cheeks and ears growing warm and she wants to scold her face for being so obvious about her feelings…What feelings?...

"What are you thinking about?" Maka asks, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, but still looking into his eyes.

"Oh um, nothing." Crona similarly fidgets with one of his sleeves, and when he looks down suddenly Maka instantly notices the way the dark blood within him stains his face.

"This is a nice place," he comments, looking back outside the window; the momentary jitters his soul had just emitted relaxed again into soothing wavelengths, and Maka was glad. Crona's hands settle back into his lap, and his eyes look sort of distant, Maka notes the way the blue sky from the window is reflected in the cool, dark pools that are his irises.

"I…like it, here."

Crona mutters it, mostly to himself. He seems to be having an introspective moment of some sort, and his expression has softened to one of childlike repose. Not for the first time Maka wonders what he is thinking, but knows that she still doesn't know him very well, that that's none of her business really; she's just glad to watch him feel at ease. Maka joins him after a moment and sits beside him to look out at the window, at the view of the sky and the city and the outstretched Nevada sand; the familiar cobblestone streets and cliffs and the obtuse sun with it's wide, drooling mouth, which she have always called her home.

She doesn't know what Crona is looking at outside of this window exactly; his eyes stay fixed on one spot somewhere out there in the blue distance, at the horizon line, maybe. But she supposes that's just it; Crona is looking at everything, taking it all in, and the wonder he finds in all of his surroundings makes her wonder what it must be like to see the whole world with brand new eyes, such as he is.

The thought makes her smile, and makes her so, so grateful that she found a way to reach him the way that she has.

Such a kind soul will no longer go to waste.

"Maka?"

"D-do you…um." He looks back at the door through which they came. "We don't have to stay here, if you wouldn't like to…"

Maka shrugs and smiles warmly. "We can stay as long as you want to, Crona. It's up to you."

If Crona looks surprised that she is so open to his freedoms, it's only for a moment. Then he nods, and Maka feels the warmth from his soul wrap around hers again.

"Okay."

He re-situates himself against the stack, staring out of the window. After a while, he closes his eyes and rests and just breathes, and momentarily, that smile from before reappears on his face again.

Maka smiles too, and wonders just what the world is going to have in store for her new, sweet friend.


End file.
